And what if he doesn’t even like it? I stumbled, catching my toe on the crimson runner. What if he never wanted it in the first place? What if this ...hole thing is just some cruel, sadistic joke? My brow furrowed. On paper, it really didn’t make any sense. Why would Mr. Caine want me, a nobody, to paint him a huge, red rendition of this little chapel? Especially, I frowned, when he has friends like Evelyn X. I recalled uncomfortably the sight of them walking away together, arm-in-arm. I don’t. I needed to withdraw money from mybank. - 8 -The gambling den was in the cellar of a Chinese restaurant in Soho.You had to pass through the kitchens to get to it, and to know itwas there in the first place. Jimmy Lang looked just as thuggishand menacing as I remembered from my former life, the scar on theright side of his face from a glassing during a bar fight in hisnative Glasgow being as ugly as ever. He was leaning on his cane -an affectation in his case. More

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